


The best-laid plans of mice and men

by Ninhaoma



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-05-28 15:26:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15052214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninhaoma/pseuds/Ninhaoma
Summary: When Albus Dumbledore's twinkle has been inherited by Harry Potter, nothing good whatsoever will follow. He has found the perfect match - but will the matched concur?*Starting point, or plot idea, or however you want to call it, is borrowed from the amazingly talented Shiv5468 and her story "A snape is for life, not just for Christmas" (go check it out at https://www.fanfiction.net/s/1616561/1/A-snape-is-for-life-not-just-for-Christmas), but it devolves quite quickly from there. The only constant is our favourite Muggleborn, who finds herself in a rather tricky situation as people think they know what direction her love life really should take..*I don't know how long this fic will be, but expect a very, very slow burn. There's also no update schedule (as of yet). But as vacation time is starting, it's probable that I'll have some time on my hands in the near future.





	1. The Beginning (because there is always one)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A snape is for life, not just for Christmas](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/391895) by Shiv5468. 



> I do not own anything. Characters created by J. K. Rowling, I just borrow them.
> 
> I do thank the internet pantheon for HP fanfic, and Shiv5486's amazing fic "A snape is for life, not just for Christmas" that inspired the premises for this work of fluff, fun, and Faultless Execution of Plans and Plots.

Chapter 1: The Beginning (because there is always one)

\- - -

If there was one thing Hermione Granger abhorred, it was Social Obligations. She loved her friends, sure, and liked meeting new people plenty. But at some point among the endless flood of festivities, and gala dinners, and Order of Merlin (First Class)-banquets, and openings of envelopes, and weddings, and birthday parties, and tea parties, and housewarming parties, and birthday parties (again), her patience had run out. Social standing and influence be damned, she avowed not to attend one more pointless event.

So she really didn't understand why she was spending yet another pointless evening in pointless company for a pointless cause. Oh yes. Because her so-called best friend, the Man-Who-Lived-To-Annoy-Her, had wheedled and pleaded and blackmailed her into attending the Annual Dinner for Hungarian Dragontamers. She sighed. And snatched another glass of wine from a passing tray.

“Hermione!” came far too cheerfully from the Man-Who-Would-Die-A-Painful-Death, as he swept in and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Hermione glared. Harry didn't notice.

“Harry,” she acknowledged, taking a sip from her glass. Then another. The wine wasn't very good, but it was there for her.

“Enjoying yourself? So sorry I forced you to come here, but you know how it gets with too little of the Gilded Triplet,” Harry said, linking his arm with her and steering her towards the dining hall. Apparently the dinner would be starting soon.

“You know I'm not enjoying myself, and you owe me such a big time for this,” Hermione grumbled into his shoulder, before flashing a smile towards some foreign dignitaries looking intrigued at The Harry Potter and The Hermione Granger. Even though their war-time escapades had been constrained to magical Britain, the rest of the world quickly found out about the young powerhouse that was Gryffindor's Golden Trio.

“I know,” Harry said, squeezing her arm affectionately. “I promise to make it up to you.”

“Brunch for a month.”

“Deal,” Harry seemed relieved at her reasonable request. He knew how she _detested_ these occasions. Apparently he had expected something worse. Well, time to correct that notion..

“And you take over the Müller case.”

At this, The-Wheedling-One blanched. “I really couldn't Hermione, that's strictly Investigations..”

Hermione smiled sweetly and tightened her grip on his arm.

“Harry Potter, you _will_ take the Müller case, or you will not see me again tonight. And you will never dare to sit down in the office again.” Harry winced, remembering last years Adventure With A Pointy Stick. Some battles were best to forfeit before they began.

“All right, all right. I'll take the Müller case,” he conceded with a sad sigh. No more free evenings for the foreseeable future. Ginny would be thrilled. “May I escort my lady to her seat?” he asked with a bow, as he released Hermione's arm and pulled out her chair. Hermione gave him a regal nod as she sat down.

“Thank you, kind sir. And don't worry. I got the groundwork almost done for the case, you just need to do the actual leg work.” At this, Harry peaked up somewhat. So maybe just a week or two of long evenings...

With a peck on her cheek, Harry hurried away before she could come up with an even heftier price for her cooperation this evening.

Hermione sighed, signaling for another glass of wine. The evening was just beginning. Well, with her luck, she would be seated with..

“Hello there, pretty lady,” came quite a pleasant voice from her left. Hermione sighed again, a bit more deeply and loudly and mayhaps with a bit of theatrics thrown in. But there was a friendly warmth in her greeting as she turned in her seat to smile at the newly arrived wizard.

“Well hello there, mister Malfoy.”

For the last two months or so, she had frequently been placed with Draco Malfoy, Man of Independent Means, Heir to Malfoy Manor, and International Man of Mystery. Or at least National Man of Some Mystique. She really didn't know why this kept happening. She also assumed it could be worse. It could have continued on as it did a year ago, when she and Ron had ended things and he still came to these occasions and the organizers kept putting them together. Because that hadn't been awkward. At all.

Malfoy was quite a diverting companion for these functions, if nothing else. He knew all the Who's Who of the wizarding world, as well as the Who's Doing What With Who. He kept up to date with scientific breakthroughs (oh, to have the time to read alchemy journals just because they were published..), but he also knew when to deter suitors (that one Danish wizard just could not take a hint), and when to encourage them (thank you _very much_ mister Malfoy, for the Danish wizard's handsome friend).

Malfoy slid graciously into his seat, offering Hermione her glass of wine that just arrived. “Mademoiselle.”

“Merci, mon cher.”

What followed was quite a pleasant evening. The by-now-quite-likely dinner companions debated the latest article on the differences between Chinese and Taiwanese alchemy (“Just because there's some political notions on the national borders doesn't mean the alchemy traditions are the same!”); judged the dress sense of their friends and foes (“There is no excuse for Longbottom's robes. That cut is so last season.”); and enjoyed the wining and dining going on (“Beats last week's Danish smørrebrød – seriously, who serves that at a banquet?”). As the dancing approached, they were both a bit tipsy and giggling over the news of George and Angelina's latest escapade.

But the dancing wasn't the only thing that approached. Hermione was trying to keep her laughter somewhat in check when she felt a familiar hand on her shoulder. She gave a warm smile at the black hair and green eyes of the Man-Who-Was-Alright, as Draco gestured for some refreshments of the hydrating kind.

“Hey Herms. Glad to see the evening wasn't a total waste,” Harry said with a twinkle in his eye. Hermione squinted at him in a slightly exaggerated manner.

“I am keeping you to brunch. And the Müller's. Even though the evening was all right”

“All right? Woman, you wound me deeply!” Malfoy did have a dramatic streak. About two and a half miles wide.

“Yes, dear, fine, fine.” Hermione rolled her eyes, taking a sip of water. Time to slow down on the harder liquids now, work tomorrow. No more booze.

Harry snorted, the twinkle going strong. “You know you sound like a married couple, right?”

“We do no such thing! We might sound like an engaged couple, or a pair of long-time casual lovers, or maybe like a couple trapped in a time-loop where the same evening keeps happening over and over again, but I object to the notion of marriage! We haven't even discussed baby names yet.” And Malfoy's dramatic streak just got wider with the alcohol. Luckily enough, he had also switched to water some time ago. So instead of the five-mile wide streak Hermione had witnessed on occasion, it was a mere three and three quarter-miles wide at this point.

Hermione slapped his arm. “Sober up, sweetie pie. No baby names yet. Or ever.”

At this, Malfoy pouted like the grown-up man he was.

“But I have such a lovely bunch of constellations picked out, and all.”

By now, Harry was twinkling all over the place, with a wide smile that didn't fool Hermione one bit. He was up to something, that Boy-Who-Lived-To-Make-Her-Life-Difficult. Her eyes narrowed on their own, brain going into overdrive, as the water cleared her head somewhat. Wait a minute..

“Well, I'll let you to it, lovebirds. Malfoy, see to it that you have her home by midnight,” and with that and a flourish of his magenta robes, Harry Potter disappeared into the evening.

“Malfoy.” Hermione's vocie was low and calculating. His ears picked up; he loved when she was in scheming mode. That got all sorts of interesting, like when they..modified..the guest list for the fundraiser at Nott's.

“My dearest Miss Granger. What has your humongous brain picked up?”

“My amazing intellect has observed the following three factors. Please feel free to object, as necessary.” Malfoy nodded somberly. “One, we have been seated together too much for what's statistically possible and socially appropriate. Two, someone has kept the wine flowing quite freely in our general direction for the last couple of events – I've noticed several others being cut off much, much earlier than us. And three, Harry Potter is channeling Albus Dumbledore's damn twinkle and meddling persona. He is the only constant in our engagements, and the only one with enough pull to affect seating arrangements and alcohol supplies.”

Malfoy nodded once again. “I concur, my dear Miss Granger. I have not noticed these three factors, but in hindsight, they are obvious. In light of these findings, I deduce the following: Harry Potter is trying to play matchmaker by seating us together and plying us with booze. Prat.”

Hermione snorted. “Prat he is.”

The pair sat in silence, observing the twinkling magenta-clad figure fluttering from group to group, nodding to someone here, giving a gentle push to someone there. Meddling. Hermione's eyes narrowed some more as a plan formed.

“Malfoy.”

“Granger.”

“I just had the most amazing idea,” A wide, Cheshire cat-like grin slowly spread over Hermione's features.

Malfoy was..intrigued. This was even more promising than her scheming tones.

“Enlighten me, my dear.”

“Let's get married.”

And with that, Malfoy choked on the sip of water he had just unwisely taken.


	2. Where plans are laid (and lists are made)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welp. There will still be no update schedule as I can't keep up with those. I'll try my best. Next chapter is started, though. Parties for all.  
> Still no ownership of anything related to JKR and the Potterverse and the Malfoy family vaults. I am a sad panda.

 

2: Where plans are laid (and lists made)

\- - -

When Hermione had saved Malfoy from certain death-by-drinking-water, and calmed him down somewhat, she pushed forward with her idea.

“So, marriage.”

A pair of somewhat suspicious grey eyes met her steady brown gaze.

“Elaborate.”

“We both agreed that Harry Potter is a meddling fool. But you know him: he wont' quit until he either gets what he wants or it blows up in his face. So, how about providing both?”

Slowly but surely, Malfoy's shocked brain got up to speed.

“We fall madly in love, providing him with his goal of sappy romance..”

“...but then we break it off in a manner most spectacular, prohibiting him from ever even thinking about it again.”

A matching Chesire cat-grin spread over the younger Malfoy's features.

“So, we have 'found each other' over these last few months and can fall madly and publicly in love..”

“..and as summer is approaching, we have a lot of engagements to attend together..”

“..so an engagement wouldn't be too far off, as we do know each other rather well after all..”

“..which results in presents!” Hermione had a look most gleeful in her eyes as the plan took shape. “The engagement itself could then be broken off during Autumn, maybe sometime around Halloween, so we get to spend Christmas separately to drown our supposed sorrows in glühwein, gingerbread cookies, and presents.” Malfoy cocked his head.

“You do have a thing for prettily wrapped things, don't you?”

Hermione shrugged.

“I assume it's the fact that I had very logical parents. 'Why wrap it when she'll tear the paper off in a minute anyway.' I like opening presents.”

Malfoy snickered.

“Well, I know how to woo you, then. But back to the plan. And you know, my most dear Miss Granger, it has more and more benefits, the longer I think on it.” His eyes got wistful. “We could leave much, much earlier than otherwise..”

“And no-one would _dare_ question why a couple newly in love would be leaving a tad early.”

“But in reality, we could enojy a quiet night in front of the fire, with the latest alchemy publications! Maybe even potions, if we're feeling frisky..”

Now Hermione smiled widely.

“And it would annoy so many people! Your father, Ron, both Pansy _and_ Astoria..”

“We're hitting so many birds with this stone – this sounds better and better!”

“You read my thoughts.”

“One thought I haven't read yet. Why would we split up after our summer fling and hasty engagement?”

“Irreconcilable differences? Your way of hogging the bathroom in the mornings? My habit of falling asleep with a book and forgetting the lights? And we really don't need to give a reason, do we? I think it's enough if we hint at some painful memories; no-one is going to pry much deeper.”

“You fall asleep with a book on your face?”

“And that's what you get stuck on. Focus, Malfoy.”

“Right. Well, I like the plan. Well-laid out and it has potential. Very Slyhterin in nature. I approve.”

“Excellent, Future Lord Malfoy. We have a deal, then?”

“We have a deal, Future Lady Malfoy-in-theory.”

And with that, he scooted his chair a bit closer to Hermione's. She gave him a theatrical wink and leaned slightly into his personal bubble.

“So, how should we start this farce off?”

“Let's take it easy. Maybe a hug at the end of the evening?”

“Oh, I like how you're thinking! Very _'Pride and Prejudice'_ , with a slow burn start and a sudden finish.”

“Well, it's Potter after all. He does have some brains.” Malfoy condecended with a slight sneer, in place more out of tradition than malicious intent. “He wouldn't believe a sudden whirlwind romance. It needs some build-up.”

"That's true. You've gotten to know him quite well, haven't you?"

"Keep your your enemies close", Malfoy shrugged.

The rest of the evening was spent enjoying relaxed conversation, doing some dancing, and generally being sociable partypeople. Neither liked it very much, except for the conversation thing as that was kept mostly to between themselves. As the appropriate time to depart was upon them and they had gotten themselves sorted to the Floo, they ended their time together with a warm, slightly-longer-than-necessary hug, which just so happened to occur when Potter passed by. Neither missed the pleased smile that flitted over his face, which was quite a feat as at least one of the futuristic couple would have been turned away from his general direction during the hug.

"See you soon," Hermione smiled as they released one another.

"Very soon, my dear miss Granger," came the answer, accompanied by a smirk, a hand that raised her much smaller one to his lips, and a soft ghosting of lips over her knuckles. A shiver ran over Hermione as her hand was released. It was always nice to meet a young man with good manners.

"I'm looking forward to it," And with that, she was whisked away in green flames.

*

Hermione Granger had always been a logical person. She wasn't very creative when it came to questioning established protocoll when it seemed well-reasoned (like 'Do not go into the Forbidden Forrest because things in there will eat you'), or designed to prevent injury (like certain potions textbooks that her best friend really had no business trusting whatsoever), and she rather liked to have rules and procedures to follow. If there were none, she established them. Both for herself and others. Whether they wanted to or not.

The Saturday following the Annual Dinner for Hungarian Dragontamers, Hermione took up camp in her kitchen and proceeded to determine the process and execution of her and Malfoy's upcoming plan. Or scheme. Or was it more of a plot? She'd have to determine the exact nature of their engagement to nme the project appropriately, but maybe that could wait for a bit. She grabbed a piece of paper and a pen as she sat down at her kitchen table, steaming mug of tea in front of her. The mug was decorated with kittens. They frolicked. It had been a gift. She would throw it away, or maybe donate it, any day now.

Well, to the plan. A slight narrowing of eyes, a moment of stillness, and a list was born.

  * Step 1: _Star-crossed lovers_  .(but not like in Romeo and Juliet, that's just sad.)
  * Step 2: _Enagement._  (Should probably be public. Would she or Malfoy propose?)
  * Step 3: _A very tragic break-up_. (Involving cyring – her or Malfoy? To be determined.)
  * Step 4: _Profit_. (No more meddling Harry. Good joke with Malfoy. Presents. Win-win-win.)



She leaned back in her rickety chair, tapping her pen against her chin as she stared into the distance for a moment, considering the list and its circumstances.

It was a bit weird that Harry had embarked on such a silly project, but understandable in an obtrusive, big-brotherly sort of way. Her and Ron's breakup hadn't been the prettiest and one might almost classify her behaviour in the following months as 'moping'. If Hermione Jean Granger would ever do such a thing, of course. So, yes, it was quite natural that her brother-in-spirit would try to cheer her up. But doing it by trying to set her up with _Malfoy_ was an..interesting choice. Sure, the Malfoy scion's change in allegiance, beliefs and personality in general, as well as the general maturing process after the war, had been quite a sight to behold, but still. He was still a pointy-faced ferret with too much opinion of himself and way too much time on his hands. Even if he had a quick wit and the resources to debate both astrophysics and the similarities between ogham and futhark.

Well. Time was moving, and so should she. The list went on her fridge with a magnet shaped as the Colosseum, courtesy of Ginny, the gamboling kittens went in the sink, and the woman went to get ready for her traditional Saturday Luncheon with said Ginny Potter _née_ Weasley. Time to lay some groundwork.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Futhark- old nordic rune alphabet, prevalent in mainly northern Germany, Denmark, as well as southern Sweden and Norway (2nd to 8th century AD)
> 
> Ogham – medieval alphabet used in Ireland (1st to 6th century AD)
> 
> Colosseum - huge old amphitheater in Rome


End file.
